Mirrored
by Deimos Erato
Summary: A fiery redhead and our loveable brunette go to check out a banned mirror... and the images stick... Ron/Harry slash..


TITLE: Mirrored  
AUTHOR: ~*Punk Zell Dincht*~  
EMAIL: PunkZellDincht@aol.com  
CATEGORY: Romance/Cuteness/Angst   
SPOILERS: The mirror of Erised…?  
RATING: PG-13  
WARNINGS: Ron x Harry/Harry x Ron  
SUMMARY: A few people we know go to visit a banned mirror…   
DISCLAIMER: J.K. Rowling owns the lot of 'em. And I'll sell my soul to you, if I can borrow 'em!   
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is sweet…   
  
"Bleah" - Dialogue  
~*~*~*~ - Page Break  
  
The youth entered the room again, his fingers whispering over the cold, icy glass of the mirror of Erised, not caring for anything else in the world, but what he saw...   
  
He studied his mother, a beautiful woman she was, and he could feel the love emanating from her... her eyes the same shade of deep emerald that was solely his own... He smiled at his father, who seemed to be smiling back, round glasses that needed to be pushed up his nose, dusty dark hair brushed away from his forehead....  
  
But they weren't there, and it killed him.   
  
Harry let the cloak flutter to the floor, a lump thick in his throat, making it hard for him to swallow, let alone breathe...  
  
They weren't there... only images he wished were real... he was deprived of a family... for the sake of what? Fame? Fame that he didn't even care for? The fifteen-year-old let another sob escape past his lips and he scrubbed at his eyes with his fists, letting his glasses slip down his nose... and the image faded on the mirror...   
  
He had been coming back to visit the mirror once he found out that indeed Dumbledore had it moved back up to the off-limits third floor... He didn't come every night... but he made sure he visited at least once a month...   
  
Hermione, who discouraged the whole thing enlightened him only a year ago, saying that they weren't really there... just images.... but he wouldn't hear of it. His mother and father were there! They were watching over him, through a pane of glass, and he would believe it...  
  
And never let her know that deep down he knew that the girl was right...   
  
Harry backed up to the wall, far from the view of the mirror, burying his face in his knees... Sometimes he wondered why he was the child that lived... it wasn't bloody fair! The teen stifled another sniffle as he heard footsteps approaching the room. Oh hells! He was going to get caught!  
  
The brunette dived for his cloak, tossing it over his head as he sat back against the frigid rock wall, his hands tucked beneath his knees, emerald eyes wide in half horror half shock. He did his best to try to slow his breathing, but found he had to cover his mouth so he could breathe from his nose without making too much noise.   
  
"Oi...Awfully dusty in here..." The redhead mutters with a look of distain as he enters the moonlit room, hands stuffed deep in his hand-me-down khaki pants, which seem a bit too big for him at this point. The sixth Weasley child has gotten a bit taller, his body filling out, but still only in the early stages of maturity. And of course, still the fussy, cocky, obnoxiously sweet silly little git that everyone (except for Snape and Malfoy) had grown to love.   
  
The redhead approached the mirrors, side of his lips curled up in an unhappy frown-like smirk, to no one in particular.   
  
"Bloody hell... Harry is gone... T'was hopin' he'd still be here..."   
  
Ron wandered closer to the mirror, his fingers brushing against the large oaken and gold-dusted frame.   
  
"Missed me, eh?" He smiled almost lovingly at the reflection, and from what Harry could see, was nothing... Hells, he couldn't even see the mirror, he had made sure of that... But quietly he stood, stepping every three breathes closer, so he could hopefully see what Ron was gazing adoringly at.   
  
Again, Nothing. Harry inwardly cursed leaning against the wall and watching Ron touch the glass gently.   
  
"My sweet Harry..."   
  
The brunette gasped, his glasses nearly falling from his nose as Ron leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the glass and stepped away, scurrying to the door and running down the winding and switching stairs to the dorms. Harry tossed the cloak haphazardly aside, running to the mirror, shocked with what he saw...  
  
A tall redhead, his emerald speckled chocolate eyes glimmering with joy as his well-muscled arms hugged the waist of a slightly shorter brunette with long chestnut hair, held back with an onyx ribbon. Both men were quite handsome, the redhead with a squared jaw line and a smile to kill, his body wasn't that bad either, there was some reminisce of Quidditch gear behind the two of them, one beater and one seeker... What startled him the most, yet made him smile, was the way both men were looking at *him* with adoration, the brunette seeming to reach out and cup his cheek.   
  
Harry gasped aloud as he studied the two, the scar on the brunette's forehead a dead give away (Not to mention the particularly similar glasses) and the smile that was uniquely his with the drop-dead emerald eyes.... And Ron... how handsome Ron would be...   
  
But why had this image stayed?   
  
Was it because Ron had kissed the mirror... or because somewhere in him, he had wanted the same.   
  
Before having the time to think, Harry leaned forward, on his toes and pressed a kiss to the mirror Ron and grabbed his cloak, spinning away and out the door... Leaving the mirror to itself in the dark, where it belonged.   
  
"Harry?"   
  
The young man looked up, his long hair swishing to mid-back as he started into the deep sapphire eyes of his father and devastatingly beautiful emerald eyes of his mother.   
  
The man hugging the brunette's waist looked up, smiling softly at the two adults.   
  
"Ron."  
  
Knowingly the two men nodded and flushed as Mr. and Mrs. Potter walked away to wherever they belonged... and slowly the two leaned to kiss, disappearing as well.   
  
Maybe this time Hermione was actually wrong....  
  
~End~ 


End file.
